Who lives forever, anyway?

Sto leggendo "My Two Moms" di Zach Wahls e ieri sera sono arrivata a p. 122, dove dice:

If you were to live forever, life would become meaningless. Knowing that you have only one shot gives that attempt so much value. It's knowing that you will only see a finite number of beautiful, heartbreakingly beautiful, sunsets that gives each sunset the power to paralyze you.